Phillis and Amyntas (Ivychurch) (Amyntas' Pastoral) · chunk 5 of 30
Fraunce, Abraham / Tasso, Torquato · published 1591 · first performed or written 1591 (Annals) pastoral T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.71 · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Strong and stoordy Lions, and Tigers fierce be a loving: And yet Phillis alas Phillis more fierce than a Tiger, Worse than a wild Lioness, and more vnkyn'de than a serpent, Phillis lives still alone, and can not abide to be lovely. But strong stoordy Lions, fierce Tigers, slippery serpents Have sense and feeling, therefore no wonder at all, if Serpents, stoordy Lions, and Tigers fierce be a loving: O then look to the trees, and learn of them to be lovely, Look to the senseless trees, and mark how dearly the vinetree Loves her loving elm, and clipps him fast with a thousand Thousand embracements, and beech-tree cleaves to the beech-tree, And wil'de ash to the ash, and pine-tree leane's to the pine-tree. Yea that broadebrauncht oak which stands so stoordyly pitched, And seems rude and rough, not moved with a storm or a tempest, Yields to a kind of love; and, if thou were but a little Touched with love, thou mights perceive his lovely bewailings, And secret groanings: and wilt thou then be for all this Worse than a senseless tree, and never learn to be lovely? Change this mind, fond wench, and this resolution alter. Well: when I see trees weep, and hear their lovely bewailings And secret groanings, i'll frame myself to be loving. 'tis but a folly I see, to be wasting wyn'de on a proud girl, That knows nought herself, and will not learn of another. Thou that makest but a jest of love, hereafter, I doubt not, Wilt full sore lament, and fyn'de all true that I tell thee: When thou shalt for shamesly back fro the watery fountains, Back fro the springs where now thou see'st thy face to be shining, For very shame and grief to behold thy beauty decayed And face all wrynckled: that's bad, but that's but a common mischief, look in time that a worse plague light not upon thee. I'll say nought; but I woe what news were truly reported By sage Elpinus last day, to the lovely Lycoris: And he reported afore Corydon and Alphesiboeus Twooe greatest masters of loves laws, and he reported In fair Aurora's great Cave, whose beautiful entrance Hath these words engraned by the hand of lovely Cupid, (This place is sacred, for lovers only appointed) There Elpinus said, and said that he heard it of old time Of that great pastor, (great man, whose sweetly resounding Pipe did pass fro the fyelds and sang of martial horrors,) How that in hell's deep pit, foul fyends have framed a dungeon, All as black as pitch, and all as dark as an oven, Hard by the joyless banks where smokes and fogs be arising From wailing Acheron: and there these no-pyty-taking Dames and scornful girls are all condemned to be plagued, All tormented there in dungeons ugly for ever. There fit place, fair walks for Phillis shallbe prepared: There shall fogs, and mists, and smokes, and palpable horror Wring out tears from her eyes, and force her still to be wailing, Whom no lovers smart, no grief could make to be weeping.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Strong and stoordy Lions, and Tygers fierce be a louing: And yet Phillis alas Phillis more fierce than a Tyger, Woorse than a wylde Lionesse, and more vnkyn'de than a serpent, Phillis liues stil alone, and can not abyde to bee louely. But strong stoordy Lions, fierce Tygers, slippery serpents Haue sense and feeling, therefore noe wonder at all, if Serpents, stoordy Lions, and Tygers fierce be a louing: O then looke to the trees, and learne of them to be louely, Looke to the senceles trees, and mark how dearely the vinetree Lou's her louing elme, and clipps him fast with a thousand Thousand embracements, and beech-tree cleaues to the beech-tree, And wil'de ash to the ash, and pine-tree leane's to the pine-tree. Yea that broadebrauncht oake which stands soe stoordyly pitched, And seemes rude and rough, not moou'd with a storme or a tempest, Yeelds to a kynde of loue; and, if thou were but a little Tutcht with loue, thou mights perceaue his louely bewaylings, And secreate groanyngs: and wilt thou then be for all this Woorse then a senceles tree, and neuer learne to be louely? Change this mynde, fond wench, and this resolution alter. Well: when I see trees weepe, and heare theyre louely bewaylings And secreate groanyngs, i'le frame myself to be louing. Tis but a folly I see, to be wasting wyn'de on a prowd gyrle, That knows nought her self, and wil not learne of another. Thou that mak'st but a iest of loue, hereafter, I doubt not, Wilt full sore lament, and fyn'de all true that I tell thee: When thou shalt for shamesly back fro the watery fountayns, Back fro the springs where now thou see'st thy face to be shynyng, For very shame and griefe to behold thy beauty decayed And face all wrynckled: that's bad, but that's but a common Myschief, looke in tyme that a worse plague light not vpon thee. I'le say nought; but I woe what news were truly reported By sage Elpinus last day, to the louely Lycoris: And he reported afore Corydon and Alphesiboeus Twooe greatest maysters of loues lawes, and he reported In fayre Auroraes greate Caue, whose bewtiful entrance Hath these woords engran'd by the hand of louely Cupido, (This place is sacred, for louers only apoynted) There Elpinus sayd, and sayd that he heard it of ould tyme Of that great pastor, (greate man, whose sweetly resoundyng Pipe did passe fro the fyelds and sang of martial horrors,) How that in hels deepe pitt, foule fyends haue framed a dungeon, All as black as pytch, and all as darck as an ouen, Hard by the ioyles bancks where smokes and foggs be arising From wayling Acheron: and there these no-pyty-taking Dames and scornefull gyrles are all condemn'd to be plagued, All tormented there in dungeons ougly for euer. There fitt place, fayre walkes for Phillis shalbe prepared: There shall fogs, and mystes, and smokes, and palpable horror Wring out teares from her eyes, and force her still to be wayling, Whom no louers smart, no griefe could make to be weeping.